


Final Days

by Bethann, Minniemoggie



Series: Legendary Friendship [34]
Category: Lord - Fandom, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drug Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Middle Earth, Sailing To Valinor, Sickfic, Spanking, Teenage Legolas Greenleaf, mention only, sealonging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-04 00:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11543727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bethann/pseuds/Bethann, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minniemoggie/pseuds/Minniemoggie
Summary: Aragorn has passed and Legolas can no longer deny that he needs to sail, but how can he leave his dwarf behind?  He has made a secret oath not to do so, so desperate times call for desperate measures.  In the meantime Gimli has his own secret to reveal.WARNING:  Angst ahead!





	1. Gimli

**Author's Note:**

> In Tolkien's canon, Legolas swore to stay in MIddle Earth until after Aragorn's death. All the information regarding ginseng misuse is actually accurate.

I wake up as my chambers are fully flooded with sunlight, something that I still haven’t gotten used to even after all the years I have lived in Ithilien. I frown, for this means it is well past dawn, and it is the third day in a row that it has happened. Most days I am awakened just before dawn by the sound of my lad moving about his chambers preparing for the day, usually softly humming or even not so softly if he wishes for my company and hopes to awaken me. That I have not heard him this morning means one of two things: either he is still asleep, which is worrisome, or he never slept at all last night, which is no longer allowed. Along with the help of others, I have done very well in the last few years keeping the worst episodes of the Sea Longing at bay, but only by watching him very closely and requiring a strict routine for rest, eating and carefully monitored exercise. Oh he does have days where I have to help him with personal things more than he would like, or remind him to care for them himself, but for the most part we have managed quite well. On his best days it is almost as if he has never even been exposed to the sea. The last several days have been quite difficult though, and no wonder. They have been difficult for me as well and for everyone in the land in fact. All will sorely miss Gondor’s late king.

Of course we knew Aragorn’s health was failing, for the last time we saw him when he had decided to pass the scepter to his son, he had become quite frail, not surprising for someone of his great age. Even considering his heritage, 210 years was beyond ripe old age. Still the message that he had passed had somehow come as a shock, especially to my elfling, who has never gotten used to the idea of his mortal friends dying. The lad has not been the same since, and I have seen signs that he is starting to succumb to the Sea Longing again, and this time I fear there will be no true recovery.

But perhaps that is for the best, for now that Aragorn is gone, the lad’s oath has been fulfilled and maybe he can sail with a clear conscience. I have been trying to discuss this with him in the last few days, but so far I have been unsuccessful. He clearly does not wish to speak of it and I have not wanted to push him too much, but I also must not let him fade away right before my eyes. The time has come to make concrete plans, and I will speak of it today, no matter how he tries to avoid the topic.

After I prepare for the day, I find my way to Legolas’ chambers, where he is still sleeping sounding with his eyes tightly closed. I am not surprised by that, for he has not been perfectly well for a very long time so these days it is easier to count the days when he sleeps with them open as was usual in the past. I hesitate for a moment, wondering if it is best to let him sleep himself out, but just as I have decided to do so, he must sense me standing there. His eyes flutter open, and he blinks several times as if trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind. Even when he sees me it seems to take a moment for him to recognize me. My heart twists a little at this sign that he may be more out of sorts than I believed at first, but I try to help him focus by speaking as I normally would, trying to sound cheerful. 

“Good morning laddie, do ye intend to sleep the day away or will ye be joining me for break of fast?”

Rather than answer, he only rubs at his eyes and shakes his head as if trying to clear his mind. He is obviously still very groggy. Concerned I sit on the edge of the bed, and smooth his hair back from his face.

“Are ye feeling unwell, lamb?” 

“I am well enough,” he tells me in a gravelly voice. He then clears his throat and explains, “I just didn’t sleep very well and so overslept this morning.”

“I see. Well I canna think of a reason why ye shouldna have a good long lie in today if it pleases ye. It would do ye good in my opinion for ye haven’t slept will since…”

“I will be fine,” he snaps, interrupting me, but then he softens his tone, “I only need to splash some cold water on my face and then I will meet you downstairs, Elvellon.”

“If that is what ye wish, Lamb, but I want ye to listen to your body and rest if ye feel tired,” I warn, “and keep in mind that I am watching.”

“As if I could forget that,” he grumbles, rising rather unsteadily. I reach out a hand to steady him, but he does not seem to appreciate the help, even though without it he might have ended up sitting down hard on the floor. Dizzy spells are a sure sign of impending illness, but he repeats, “I will be fine. I will meet you downstairs in a few minutes.”

“I believe I will wait,” I tell him, for this is one of those days where I do not like the idea of him attempting the stairs on his own. He may not like it, but bruised pride is better than a broken bone, so I merely sit back down to wait until he is ready.

“Suit yourself,” he tells me, and manages to make it to the bathing chamber without further incident. When he returns I am even more concerned for he has left his hair loose, which means that his hands were too shaky to braid it, another sign that a bad episode is looming. I open my mouth to offer to braid it for him, but surprise myself by saying something else. 

“Legolas, I really need to talk to ye. About the future…”

“Perhaps later. I have plans for the day already” he claims, trying to pass by me to reach the door, but I reach out to grab his arm. 

“Your plans can be put aside, elfling. Ye canna go on as ye are forever…”

“Gimli please!”

“Aragorn is gone, child. Your oath has been fulfilled!”

He closes his eyes as if he can blot out the truth by doing so. 

“I do not want to talk about it, right now!”

“I know ye don’t, lambkin, “I say gently, using Mam’s pet name for him. “But the time has come. Not right this minute, but very soon.”

“Tomorrow perhaps,” he suggests.

“Not tomorrow, lad. Today. We have put it off far too long already.”

He shudders at the thought, and I can see he is on the verge of panicking, so I sit on the edge of the bed and pull him down next to me. 

“But I am not ready…I…”

I put an arm around his shoulders, noticing how thin he has become again in spite of my best efforts. I pull him close and speak in what I hope is a soothing manner.

“Take a deep breath, child. Ye are not leaving today, for there is still much to be done first. Today we are only talking, that’s all. We will take this one step at a time.”

“ It isn’t necessary because I am fine,” he insists, in spite of the fact that he is now trembling like a leaf, “I do not wish to talk about it. Please, Gimli, don’t make me. At least not today.”

His plaintive plea breaks my heart, but I know I must remain firm this time, for time is now running out. This conversation must not be put off another day.

“I am sorry, my lamb, but this is not optional.”


	2. Legolas' pov

I draw in a deep breath and try to steady myself, at this moment in time I am not in any way ready to discuss sailing with my beloved dwarf, oh I know I should be, Gimli has sacrificed so much for me, given so much to me, done so much for me, you would think the least I could manage is a short conversation on the advisability of taking ship, but the fact is I cannot so I must attempt to once again circumvent Gimli’s determination to have a conversation I do not want to be part of.

“Very well” I answer, “but I changed my mind. I think I need to bathe and dress in clean clothing first,” I offer my guardian a small smile, “I will call you if I need your help I promise.”

I see that Gimli is wavering and so swiftly add, “Let me have this small victory mellon-nin. It is rare indeed these days that I manage anything without your support. Today I feel the need to at least attempt it.”

Just as I hope Gimli gives me leave to bathe and dress alone. It is unfair I know, and my conscience pricks at me, but the truth is without this small deception I would have no opportunity to flee the house and seek refuge in the trees where I can try to collect my scattered wits. It is wrong of me, I acknowledge it, and unfair to my guardian who has worked so tirelessly to help me survive the sea calling, but even so it is necessary.

Gimli sees me into the bathing chamber, putting towels and reviving herbs ready for my use. He even kisses my brow and tells me how proud he is of my efforts to cope with the latest disaster life has chosen to burden me with. I feel horribly guilty but not enough to admit that I am doing my best to escape his care.

My mutinous limbs have finally stopped shaking and once I am alone I prise open the window and climb somewhat ponderously onto the branch of a nearby oak. Calling upon it for support I find myself lifted from tree to tree by willing branches which, sensing my distress, do all they can to aid me in my flight. I have little more to do than allow myself to be carried away from the house and into the forest.

When I feel that I am far enough away from the house to avoid immediate detection I settle into the branches of an ancient pine and allow my faltering fêa to calm down. I have to come to terms with what has happened, to allow myself to grieve and then to find some way to persuade my determined guardian that I do not need to take ship.

The problem is that I know that I am at the end of my strength. I can no longer distract myself or allow myself to be distracted from the call. It consumes my every hour waking or sleeping, I hear the sound of the waves pounding in my ears. My eyes watch gulls’ wheeling in the sky. My nose smells the salty tang of the sea spray. All that I love most about Arda is drowned out by the siren sound of the sea.

And now to add to the burden a new weight has been added. Aragorn is dead.

I drop my head into my hands desperate to block out if only for a moment all that is destroying my peace but it is not to be and I am too exhausted and weak to fight the images that fill my mind. My grief is too close.

I have lost mortal friends to death before. I have seen my own kind die in battle and felt the loss such partings bring. Eowyn and Faramir, Eomer and his queen, my beloved Mam, and very recently I watched as Merry and Pippin that indomitable pairing slipped the bonds of this earth and moved beyond the veil together. I have wept for them all and grieved at their parting. Each of them taking a small part of my heart with them for they go where I cannot follow but Estel, Estel is different. He was the first of mortal kind I called my friend. I watched him grow up and saw him overtake me, yet still we remained friends even as his own strength began to fail and he grew steadily older, and now he is gone and I cannot bear it. 

I could not have managed to get through the inevitable ceremonials that mark the passing of a great king without Gimli standing at my side. Such indomitable courage, such resolution. He grieves. Of course he does but he seems to have an inner source of strength that I lack and of course he is sustained by the belief that he and Aragorn will be reunited at the end of all things.

But for me Aragorn’s death is like the end of all things now. I watched as Elladan, Elrohir and their grandfather rode out of the White City with a distraught Arwen and knew that I would see her no more either for she has gone into the empty land of Lórien, and will never be seen again for she intends to end her life on the same mound of Cerin Amroth where she had stood with Aragorn and pledged her troth so long before. When that has happened Celeborn and the Elrondionnath will go to join my Ada in Eryn Lasgalen and Lothlorien and Imladris will empty completely.

But my Gimli will still be here, and while he lives I must somehow find the strength to remain in Ithilien. I will not desert him and leave him alone after all he has done for me and I swore an oath to do so many years ago and whatever the cost to my long term health. I cannot- will not- break that oath to stay until Gimli gives up his life and I can see to all of his obsequies with proper due respect. 

And that of course is why I seek to avoid discussing sailing with Gimli who would have me leave now and so preserve my faltering health. He has become increasingly vocal about my need to sail over the last ten years or so. I have managed to convince him that it was impossible to do so by reminding him of my promise to remain in Middle Earth while Aragorn lived but I no longer have that defense.

No matter I will not break my oath and yet I fear to tell Gimli the truth for he will not be happy that I have kept silent over this for so long and more than that he will consider it an unnecessary vow since he said years ago when he named me his heir that he did not expect me to stay on Arda if my health was affected. He claimed that my desire to do so would be sufficient, but it is not sufficient not for me! I owe it to my guardian, whose care of me I can never fully repay, to do those last services for him with proper decorum and care and I can only do that by remaining on Arda until Gimli is gone beyond the veil.

How I will cope with that loss I do not know. I am struggling now and things can only get worse but I have the sheer stubborn will of my sire and my adopted sire and I can only ask the Valar to grant me the strength to endure what I must.

The thought of that inevitable day when Gimli too leaves me reduces me to more tears, but weeping will only weaken me further so I must find the resolve to go on and to somehow persuade Gimli that I am well enough to do so.

There are herbs and potions that can aid me in that determination and I am beginning to wonder if I may have to resort to that recourse. If I must I will do even that.

The trees whisper to me that my friends are searching for me and that they are distressed. I lift my head and hear my warriors calling my name. I know my flight will have caused concern and perhaps even anger but I needed time to come to terms with what may be ahead of me. I think I may know what is needful now so perhaps it would be better to return under my own reconnaissance rather than be hauled back by my ears by my guard. 

I scramble down the tree and having caught my breath I call out to Saellind that I am here and am on my way back.

Saellind only just manages to prevent himself grabbing my arm when I come in sight. Instead he informs me that Lord Gimli is very upset and wishful to see me as soon as we return. I am sure it is very unprofessional for a Captain of the Guard to grin so widely when he says this but I know well that saying something will avail me of nothing for like Galathil, Saellind has become accustomed to treating me in a very similar fashion to Gimli that is smothering me in their concern and care. So I merely nod and trudge back to the glade where the house stands. Gimli is waiting at the door and I see his concern and worry give way to a ferocious frown as we come into view.

Still, he says nothing until Saellind hands me over to him and we are inside with the doors closed. I brace myself for a lecture or worse, although Gimli rarely uses physical punishment on my person now. Not from any hope of my being too old or too mature but rather because he considers me too frail. Deciding that it will be better for me to speak before Gimli explodes I offer an apology.

“I am sorry, Elvellon. I just had to get away for a little while, and it is natural for a wood elf to seek the comfort of the trees when they are distressed.”

I can see he is controlling himself with some difficulty so hurry onwards.

“I have been thinking of the conversation we must have about my leaving Arda.” 

Now that seems to both surprise and please him so I continue quickly.

“I know I cannot put off my journey indefinitely but I would beg you to give me just a few more days so that I can come to terms with things in my own time. I am hopeful that I can recover sufficiently for us to have another season or more here in Ithilien. I know it may be a vain hope but I would wish to know that I have made every effort before …” I falter and have to swallow hard, “before we must …must …be parted.” 

My eyes fill with tears at this thought and I see that Gimli is much moved, and looks as if he wants to speak. I take both his hands in mine. 

“Let me have these few days, Elvellon, please. Let us spend time together, to remember Estel and to find peace before we talk of my future.”

“Lamb…”

“Please Gimli”

My dwarven guardian hesitates, then nods. 

“Aye a week or so will make no odds and perhaps during that time ye will become a little stronger and better able to make sensible choices. But” here he squeezes my hands, “this decision canna wait forever lad. I know the idea of leaving worries ye, but we cannot deny the truth much longer. Your days on Arda are growing short and putting things off willn’a change the eventual outcome.”

I nod as if in agreement, but I am already planning to do just that. If I can become stronger as Gimli says and more able to take the running of my demesne back into my own hands then Gimli will see that I will not have to leave him. I have in the past taken potions that Aragorn made up for me that helped dull the sound of the sea but they stopped being efficacious some years back and Estel would not allow me to take a larger dose because of the chance of damage to my hröa. But circumstances have changed and I am determined to at least see if taking some kind of medicine can help me recover sufficiently to prove to my guardian that there is no need for me to sail and leave him here alone.

“Thank you elvellon, I do not deserve your care and love or your understanding but I do appreciate them truly. I begin to feel a little better already” I add, and in truth it is as if having come up with at least an idea on how to remain in Middle Earth I have found some ease of the pain and noise.

“Well we shall see. If ye eat your dinner tonight and get a good night’s sleep I will be a deal happier that is for certain. Now how are ye planning to spend the rest of the day?”

Since I need to get the healers quarters I say that I think I will take a stroll around the herb gardens.

“Now that is a good idea. I will join ye in a little while. First I have a meeting with Lord Elboron’s steward over the hop harvest a very important matter in my opinion at least.” 

I know Gimli is seeking to make me smile with his words so I dutifully laugh then make my way out into the gardens and on into the healers stillroom where I begin my search for the preparations I need.

I find the jars are all labelled and sorted alphabetically my head healer is very organized I am happy to see and since I know which plants powders went into the medicine Estel used I soon have the ones I need, milk thistle, Schisandra berries and powdered Red Ginseng root. 

Of course I have no idea in what amounts I need to take them but decide that the best thing to do is to experiment with the quantities and see if they make any difference to my physical and emotional state. I stow what I need in a small sack after swallowing a small amount of each of the plants first. The taste is foul but if this works it will be worth the disgusting after taste in my mouth,. Then I hurry to the herb garden itself and take a long drink from the fountain that sits in the middle of it, and seeing one of the indoor staff crossing the bottom the walkway I ask her to take the sack and place it in my clothes press in my bed chamber. With that done and the evidence hidden away I settle back on a bench, close my eyes and wait for Gimli.

The warmth of the sun makes me drowsy and I find it hard to keep my eyes open so I doze a little, and find that just as I had hoped that my dreams are good ones and not related to the sea at all. I feel very relaxed and contented. If this is what happens when I take only the smallest amount of the herbs together I cannot wait to find out how I will feel when I take a bigger dose.


	3. Gimli's POV

Xxxx

As soon as I can politely do so, I excuse myself from my meeting with Elboron’s steward. In spite of my earlier jest, I couldn’t care less about the hops harvest or anything else so unimportant. In fact, I hope not to be here when the beer from this year’s crop is ready to drink. Literally the only thing that is on my mind is my lad and how I can convince him that he must take ship before it is too late and how I will reveal to him that I have made a vow long ago that I will go with him. It is not my usual practice to keep such vital information from him, but I have kept silent on the subject for over ninety years. The main reason for this is that I did not wish to spend decades arguing over the topic and listening to him telling me that I mustn’t make such a sacrifice on his account. 

Besides that I had no way of knowing if my own life would end before his need to sail become dire, so it might have been a moot point. It has become obvious now. I am not as young as I once was, but like most of my folk I have remained strong and hale and have not begun to fail at all in health. Dwarves generally only begin to weaken in the very last year of life, so since that has not yet begun I know I have some time left. Legolas, however, will be fortunate to be able to abide another year in Middle Earth. I believe it would be dangerous for him to do so, for I am already concerned that he will not have the strength to make the journey. It is a very personal issue and one that I have felt I or no one else could make for him, but now it seems as if there may be no onther choice and I will have to press him to so. I pray that I have not waited too long already to force the issue, for I am beginning to believe that dragging him bodily aboard the ship may be the only way!

I came very close to revealing my oath to him today, for I could see the anguish it caused him to think of having to part ways with me. It was on the tip of my tongue to do so, but when he begged for a few more days to come to terms with things, I decided against it. I do not know if this knowledge will be a comfort to him, or if it will upset him even more and I did not wish to risk it being the latter considering his weakened state at the moment. Speaking of which, if it hadn’t been for his frail condition we might have had a fairly one-sided discussion about his earlier deception. I have become very accustomed to my elfling being compliant and cooperative and had forgotten that he can be quite sneaky when he wants to be. It has been some years since I have even felt the slightest need to resort to physical chastisement and so was surprised when the thought came to mind today. I do not relish being blatantly lied to, something he knows very well! But of course his tortured expression made me realize it was desperation making him behave in such a way, so as it turned out I could not even bring myself to scold over the incident.   
Instead I ended up agreeing to his request to give it another week before we discuss the inevitable and promised that we would spend that time together, talking of other things. 

With that in mind, I hurry to the herb garden where I find my elf sitting on a bench, evidently enjoying the sunshine. When I come closer, I realize he is actually sleeping, which makes me smile, for sleep is not easy to come by these days for him, especially not in the last few days. I sit beside him and gently reposition him so that he is lying on the bench with his head in my lap.

“We were going to walk in the garden,” he protests, though not very convincingly for he never even bothers to open his eyes.

“Sleep while ye can child,” I tell him, “we can walk later just as well. The garden will still be here when ye wake.”

He smiles and snuggles in deeper, and it is almost as if he really is feeling better. There is a big difference between deep quality sleep, and the nightmarish, haunted sleep that he has had to endure lately. His expression is calm and he is completely relaxed and it is long lasting too. By the time we are actually walking about the herb garden, the afternoon sun has turned to twilight. We talk of pleasant subjects as we walk and then return to the house, where he surprises me by eating better than he has done in months. I am cautiously optimistic by the time I retire for the evening.

I am truly optimistic the next morning, though certainly very surprised. I am awakened by fairly spirited singing, and when I cross over to Legolas’ chambers I find him already dressed, and braiding damp hair into the complicated braid he designed long, long ago that is unique to the two of us and that signifies our special relationship. He has not been able to manage this particular braid on his own in over ten years! He even goes so far as to untie my hair and redo it to match his, though by the time he gets to the dwarven eternity knot that goes in the middle he is beginning to become frustrated again when his hands begin to shake.

“Damn it,” he swears, scowling at his hands, “Why isn’t it working? I just did this on my own hair not five minutes ago!”

“Ah well, dinna let it spoil your day, lamb. Ye have done remarkably well,” I remind him. “I havena’ seen ye looking so lively in I can’t remember when. Let us rejoice in that. Here I will finish it.”

I hurry to put the finishing touches on the braid and to tie it off, and then offer him my arm. “Shall we go down to breakfast?”

“Of course you are right, Elvellon,” he smiles, but he does not take the proffered arm. “but I will join you in a few minutes. There is something I need to do first.”

Since there is clearly no need to worry over him managing the stairs on his own today, I simply nod and tell him not to be long. True to his word, he joins me within only a few minutes his earlier frustration gone. He seems to be perfectly content and in fact is nearly euphoric. He praises the simple meal and then excitedly tells me of his plans for the day, which includes digging up and dividing daffodil bulbs to move to a new bed nearer the house, and of all things arms practice with his twin knives! I must look askance at that suggestion, for he is explaining before I even have the chance to forbid the idea.

“I really need it, Gimli. I am sorely out of practice you know.”

But happy as I am to see him feeling so ambitious that is not something that can be compromised on, and so I tell him.

“Well ye’ll just have to remain out of practice, elfling. Ye are not going to be messing about with razor sharp knives the day after ye couldn’t even braid your own hair even if your eyes become as big as saucers! Ye may as well forget that idea!”

“But Gimli…” he begins, but something in my face must make him realize it is pointless to argue for he changes his mind and he says, “Just the bulbs then?”

“With supervision and help,” I say firmly.

“Very well,” he agrees amicably, “will you be supervising or helping?”

In spite of alarms sounding in my mind and trying to tell me that something isn’t right I have to smile at his enthusiasm. 

“I will be doing both,” I tell him, “and ye will listen to me and end the activity if I think it necessary. AND ye will rest this afternoon no matter what. Agreed?”

“Agreed!” he says, and then fairly leaps to his feet to kiss my cheek and then hurry outside. 

Again we spend a very pleasant morning together working in the garden and talking of happy times we’ve spent together. We even speak a little about the quest and our early days together and how Aragorn was the first one to see the potential in our unlikely friendship. I am encouraged that he is willing to speak of such things, though of course we steer clear of talking of anything about the last few years and the King’s ailing health, or the elaborate funeral ceremony we attended together in the White City. All in all it is a very good morning. In fact it is the best he has had in a long time, though it is only halfway through the morning when he begins to flag. He starts having trouble operating the small trowel after a while and becomes irritated and rather short with me when I insist on him taking a break. But when he meets me again for the noon meal he seems much restored again and anxious to get back to the project. 

He is a little put out with me when I remind him that our agreement included him resting in the afternoon, but he manages to sleep in spite of his grumbling, and again it is a deep sleep rather than a restless one. 

The next day is much the same. He begins the day in a cheerful frame of mind, full of energy and excited to continue working in the garden, but soon loses steam. Short breaks seem to revive him tremendously and his appetite and sleep seem better than they have in years.

It is not until the third day that I begin to become more concerned. The day starts out as the others, but when his initial burst of energy begins to wear off he become much more frustrated than before and angrily throws the trowel while swearing a blue streak. When I gently reprove him, reminding him to watch his tongue, he storms off to pout in his bedchamber. I am stunned by this, for I have not seen him give in to temper in a long time. He returns a while later repentant and almost tearful, though he seems to be much restored when I tell him not to even give it a thought. I know it has been a very difficult couple of weeks. Anyone would be frustrated. Still I am troubled.

His energy level is unusually high, but he can’t seem to settle down to any one project. He flits from task to task, until he finally resorts to simply pacing. When I ask what the matter is, he cannot seem to put into words exactly what is troubling him, but only answers irritably or not at all. His agitation is very puzzling and I wonder if this is some new phase of the sea longing. If so it is certainly different from anything we have encountered before. I resolve to see if I can find a moment to speak of it to our head healer tomorrow. I thought I knew all there was to know about the effects of the sea, but perhaps there is something he can tell me. 

I finally convince my elfling to call it a night and attempt to sleep, but when I come in to wish him goodnight I find him sitting trembling in the middle of the bed with his head in his hands. I hurry to sit beside him and rub his back. I try to keep my voice soothingly low rather than to give in to the panic I am beginning to feel. Something is clearly wrong and not the usual something, but something new. 

“What is it, laddie? Are ye in pain?”

He does not even attempt to deny it.

“My head is aching horribly,” he tells me. “Like an orc army is trying to break out of my skull.”

I turn down the lamp in case the light makes the pain worse, and then try to pry his hands away from his face.

“Come lamb, let me look at ye,” I try to coerce him. “Maybe if ye lie back it will help…”

I finally manage to pull his hands back, noticing as I do so that his skin is unusually warm. He slowly turns his face toward me, though his eyes remain tightly shut. I am stunned to see that his lips are dry and beginning to crack open, and I wonder how this could have happened without me noticing before. But the real shock comes when he finally opens his eyes a little. The whites are solid red and his pupils are dilated. 

“Sweet Valar, child!” I exclaim, but then remember it is better not to alarm him. Again I swallow my own panic and speak softly. “Here now, Lamb, lie back and close your eyes while I find someone to fetch Master Handir for us.”

Fortunately I only need to call out to one of the servants in the corridor for a message to be sent to our head healer, though by the time he arrives Legolas has fallen into a fitful sleep. Rather than wake him, Master Handir decides it is probably better to postpone doing a thorough examination. 

“Sleep is rare enough for him these days that I would not want to disturb him,” he tells me. “When he awakens call for me and I will do what I can to make him more comfortable, which is just about all we can do anymore. Soon even that will become difficult…”

He looks at me as if he is unsure if he should have spoken of such a thing, but he is only telling me what I know already. I hurry to ease his mind.

“Aye, ye are right,” I agree. “Some tough decisions need to be made and soon. I thank ye for your opinion and your time.”

He nods and I think he is about to leave, but he narrows his eyes and lets them roam over my sleeping charge evaluating what he can without touching him or speaking to him. He begins asking me some questions and furrows his brow at my answers. 

“What is it?” I demand, for it is easy to see he is pondering something.

He looks thoughtful for a moment and when he finally speaks it is to tell me about some missing herbs in his stillroom.

“I always keep careful track,” he tells me, “but there is a decent quantity of a few items missing.”

“What items,” I ask, wondering why he is choosing this moment to tell me about such a trivial matter.

“Milk thistle, Schisandra berries Red Ginseng root powder... “

The list is familiar to me, for I always kept a supply of these things at Aragorn’s suggestion when I was still living in Aglarond. He had always had them pre measured into the correct dosage for the times when Legolas came to me for help in coping with the sea longing. For many years they were a great help until his episodes got worse. After that a safe dosage no longer worked effectively and that’s when Aragorn began his campaign to talk my lad into taking ship. It is a strange coincidence that those exact herbs are the ones that are now missing from the stillroom. And then it dawns on me. Of course it is not a coincidence. How blind can I be?

Master Handir continues talking as if he is not implying anything at all, though he does manage to let me know he hopes whoever has been taking it is careful with it for the side effects of overuse can be many and severe.

“…dry mouth and lips, excitation, fidgeting, irritability, tremor, palpitations, blurred vision, inflamed eyes, headache, insomnia, increased body temperature, edema, decreased appetite, dizziness, itching, early morning diarrhea, bleeding, fatigue, nausea vomiting,  restlessness, loss of bladder control, fever, increased respiration, decreased sensitivity and reaction to light, decreased heart rate, changed facial complexion, seizures, convulsions and delirium…”

The list goes on and on, and I realize what he is suggesting without actually suggesting it. I know very well who the herb thief is, for I have already seen many of the side effects on the list in my lad. I only hope I have found this out in time to prevent even more of them from appearing. 

In spite of counting to one hundred twice and in spite of smoking my favorite pipe, I find myself growing angry! How could Legolas do something so potentially damaging as to mess with potent medications he knows nothing about? Especially after being warned that the maximum safe dosage had already been reached and rendered useless years ago! For the second time in a few days I am reminded about how devious my elfling can be when it suits him. Of course deep down I understand his reasoning. I realize he is desperate for some way to remain in Middle Earth, but still! He is not going to kill himself on my watch no matter how determined he is to do so and so I will tell him the minute he wakes up! Perhaps I have been understanding for too long.

Immediately I begin searching his chamber for evidence, looking through drawers and cabinets and even under his pillows and the bed. It doesn’t take me long to find what I am looking for under some clean folded towels in the clothes press. I open the small bag and find a pungent assortment of dried herbs and herb powders. I stalk back over to the bed intent on waking him up and giving him a piece of my mind, but of course I do nothing of the sort. Whatever he was thinking, and whatever mischief he has been in, the fact still remains that he needs me now. 

I place the herb bag on the bedside table and place myself on a nearby chair once again to wait the night out, but tomorrow something must be done. Though I fear the outcome will cause more upset than comfort, I can no longer wait to reveal to him my plans. Tomorrow is a day for truthful answers to be given, for hard topics to be discussed and for difficult choices to be made.


	4. Legolas' pov

It is almost three days since I began to take the combination of herbs that have helped me recover so swiftly from the effects of the sea longing. True I have had need to up the dosage and the effects do not seem to last so long or to be so efficacious as they were at the beginning and I can feel within myself that my control over my emotions and my physical well-being is not as good as I would wish it to be, but still …

The fact is that without the mixture of herbs I am imbibing I would most likely be far worse off, so any side effects are best just accepted and lived with, at least that is what I believed until today. Today so many uncomfortable symptoms have come to the fore that I am beginning to wonder if what I am doing is wise. I have experienced excitation, fidgeting, irritability, hand tremor, heart palpitations, and increasingly blurred vision. My eyes are inflamed, my head aches, and embarrassingly I seem to have somehow lost some control over my bladder and other functions. Also my eyes also ache terribly in the light.

But, on the other hand these last few days have been such an escape, such a pleasure. I have been able, within bounds, to do just as I have always done, to actually enjoy activities that lately have become impossible. So should I demur at the fact that the dosage I am taking has become quite considerable?

Tonight, however, I am beginning to wonder whether it was actually wise to continue to increase the dosage. Each time the benefits accrued have been lessened while the side-effects have worsened. Now my lips feel dry and cracked, my brow is heated so that I fear I may have a fever and I can hardly bear to open my eyes so painful have they become and so affected by the light.

It is almost a relief when Gimli comes to me and demands to know what is amiss. I cannot answer but he does not seem to need a response for he abjures me to lie back and close my eyes while he finds someone to summon Master Handir.

Whether my chief healer responds to his call I do not know for it is late in the morning before I wake and by then I am feeling so unwell and so disorientated that I do not care. I prise open my eyes despite a feeling that by doing so I will likely cast up my accounts. My stomach churns and it is touch and go but I manage somehow to keep whatever I ate yesterday confined within my stomach.

Of course as my eyes scan the chamber I also find my dwarven minder fast asleep in a chair by my bedside. Gimli looks acutely uncomfortable, but his sonorous snores indicate that he is sleeping soundly. I ease myself up slightly and beyond my sleeping guardian on the table by the bed I see a very familiar sack.

My heart sinks. I have been discovered, and I know very well that when Gimli wakes I am going to be in real trouble. Nothing I say will convince my dwarf that the side effects are worth the distress I have put my body through. I felt sure that it would be worth it but I doubt that Gimli will agree and as my stomach roils and my mouth is filled with its contents I begin to doubt its benefits myself. Somehow I choke back the vomit but other parts of my body begin to react in a fashion which is as unpleasant as it is uncomfortable. I will have to get up unless I wish to disgrace myself.

As soon as I begin to struggle free of the covers Gimli awakes and attempts to keep me confined. I increase my desperate attempts to rise and find my way to the bathing chamber. My desperation must convey itself to my guardian for he stops trying to keep me in bed and instead aids me in my attempt to reach the bathing chamber before my body shames me completely for it seems determined to rid itself of whatever is within it in any way possible. Its efforts leave me debilitated and weak, unable to even summon up the effort required to stagger back to my bed. I would weep save I have not the energy even for that poor response.

It is left to Gimli to half carry half drag me back into my bed chamber, clean me off and dress me in a clean night shirt. Then as I huddle into the chair he so recently vacated, he strips the linens from the bed and puts on clean sheets.

“There now Lamb, let’s get ye back between these sheets. Ye are as white as snow and ye are shaking like a leaf in a windstorm.”

Knowing I owe him an explanation, I rasp, “I am sorry.”

“Aye, and so ye should be. Do not think I do not know what ye have been about, such senseless conduct! Ye could have killed yourself. Master Healer Hamdir, was telling me about missing herbs as we tried to find what ailed ye. Of course as soon as he spoke of what it was that was missing and he listed the symptoms, it became clear what had been going on. As soon as ye are recovered sufficiently we are going to be having a very long discussion as to just what ye thought ye were up to and believe me when I tell ye that ye are not going to find it in the least bit comfortable.”

Ill though I feel, I blanch at the threat in this comment.

“I said I was sorry” I implore, “I did it because I wanted to stay with you in Middle Earth.”

I hope this will at least dampen my dwarf’s desire for reprisal against my poor battered body, but I can see from his expression and the lowering of his brow that my optimism is poorly placed.

“At what cost ye foolish elfling?”

“I thought it was worth the risk,” I falter, perhaps not the wisest thing to say but at least truthful. “Gimli I cannot bear to think of leaving you here to die while I sail away. I cannot-WILL not- do it!” 

The words are torn from my abraded throat.

Gimli sighs, and takes my hand in his.

“Eh, Lamb, I know well enough how hard ye have tried to stay with me but we have always known ye may not be here when I passed. We spoke of it when I made you my heir and I told ye back then that I wanted nothing more than to know that ye would wish ye to do what was required if ye could. But lamb I…”

But I am no longer listening. I want to cry out at the prosaic response to my declaration. Instead I feel tears welling up in my eyes.

“That is not the point!”

“It is exactly the point Lambkin. Even with all your strength and determination there comes a time when ye have to accept the inevitable. There is no shame in that.” 

I should be comforted by this but instead I feel betrayed or as if I have betrayed my most beloved guardian which is what I have done or what I will be forced to do. Finally I blurt out, “I cannot leave Gimli.”

I give him a determined look and he e scowls in response, obviously unwilling to accept my explanation. Driven to the last ditch I tell him, “I made a vow to stay while you lived. I do not care the consequences, I will fulfill my oath.”

“Oath?”

“Yes, years ago, in Aglarond at the same time you made me your heir I swore that I would stay here and be the son you could be proud of and nothing you say or do will change that.”

Expecting an explosion what I get is an exasperated “Ye did what ye foolish, foolish elfling?”

“I … I took an oath, Gimli.”

Rather than answer this response Gimli begins to chuckle, initially softly but then more loudly and more frequently until he sees my bewilderment and he takes my face in my hands and kisses my brow, and then says simply,

“So did I.”


	5. Gimli's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For those who read my work for the discipline aspect instead of the LOTR aspect, you should know that Aulle, also called Mahal by the dwarves, is one of the Valar (or gods). He is the one that created the dwarves. Legolas calls himself a son of Aulle, because he is considered Dwarf Kin by Gimli's family. 
> 
> I had intended to post the rest of this tonight, but I believe I will wait until tomorrow for the last two chapter.

Legolas’ expression changes from distressed at having had to reveal his secret, to surprised by my laughter to puzzled by my response as I kiss him on the brow and tell him I have also made a vow. 

“You did?”

“Indeed I did, long ago back when we were building the aqueduct in Aglarond just after Mam moved in. Do ye recall that time? I meant to tell ye of it a few days ago, but ye were so distressed, and then today ye were so ill…”

“That was a hundred years ago,” he says, seemingly amazed. “What sort of oath was it?”

“Oh no, I don’t think so elfling,” I say raising a brow at him. I then sit next to him on the bed and pull his poor battered frame into my arms so that he can rest his head on my shoulder as we talk. “ye started this, so ye can tell me of your vow first. Ye said ye swore an oath?”

“I did!” he exclaims almost defiantly, if that is possible considering his weakened state. “I took a lapis stone to the altar of Zârgharâf and placed in there and made an oath.”

Here I frown I little, for even though it has been many years ago I remember the discussion we had regarding the matter at the time.

“Even after I told ye I would not permit ye to make such an oath, and that minors were not allowed to see or touch the altar?”

“Yes Gimli,” he admits, “ I did it even so, and I reaffirmed it years later just before you moved to Ithilien. Greirr brought me himself and watched as I did so, and it was just before he was sworn in as Lord there too.”

“Ye did, did ye? And Greirr helped ye with it, and him no longer a foolish youth at the time either!”

I am completely taken off guard by this bit of information, though perhaps I shouldn’t be, now that I think of it. As I recall the lad had dropped the subject rather easily at the time. I cannot imagine what Greirr was thinking, but my lad can be very persuasive when he wants to be. Perhaps my nephew is not any more immune to big sad eyes than I am myself at times. I do not know exactly what to say at first, but then I find my voice again.

“It was very naughty of ye to flout my orders like that and had I known it at the time I would have dragged ye back to the altar and revoked your illegal vow, before letting ye know my opinion on such blatant disobedience in a very clear manner!”

“Y..you can do that?” he squeaks, as if worried that I intend to haul him back by the ears to Aglarond right now. 

“I could have, had I known of it then. As your guardian I had the right to annul any unwitnessed vow. Ye did not have permission to make it, and in fact had been told very clearly that it was not allowed.”

He looks rather stricken at this information. No doubt it is a shock after all these years that his original vow could have been cancelled. However it does not matter now.

“However the second time it was witnessed by Greirr, who was second in command in Aglarond at that time. By bringing ye there himself he implied permission, so the oath stands.”

“So you understand why I have to stay then, no matter the cost?” he begs me to understand. “I am an adopted son of Aulë, am I not?”

I look over the lanky figure in my arms, the slight frame, the smooth face, the silky hair and I almost want to smile at the plaintive question. He does not look like any dwarf I have ever seen! But then my bond with him is just as strong and just as true as any bond between a father and son. I keep my expression serious as I answer.

“Of course ye are, and I am as proud of ye as if ye were my own flesh and blood.”

“Then that means that my vow on the altar of Zârgharâf has to be fulfilled or you will be humiliated before our people. Our whole family will be dishonored!”

“Here now, lamb, ye mustn’t fret so. It was not done in a public forum, so no one knows of it.”

“I know! And you know, and Greirr, though he does not know what the vow I swore was. But Lord Aulë knows of it, and maybe even Mam and Lord Gloin and others who have passed beyond the veil.”

“Ye have circumstances beyond your control, laddie. Ye have put up an incredible fight, but ye are at the end of your strength!”

Tears that have been standing in his eyes begin to leak down his face and it makes my heart ache to see him so distressed.

“I am struggling now, it is true,” he admits, “I…don’t know how I will do it, but can’t you see I must? It would kill me to shame and betray you in such a way. I refuse to do so, Gimli, even if I die in the process I have to try!”

He turns his face into my shoulder, his whole body heaving with deep sobs, something that concerns me terribly. 

“Please, child, ye mustn’t take on so!” I implore him, “Ye will only weaken yourself further and make yourself more ill than ye already are. Ye must conserve your strength. Hush now, lamb and listen to me. I need to ask ye another question and it is vital that ye answer me. Take a deep breath for me now. Good lad…that’s it…are ye listening?”

I continue to gently rub his back while he stops weeping and gains control of his breathing. Finally he nods into my shoulder to indicate he is ready to listen.

“I have something to tell ye that I believe will make ye feel better. It is good news, very good news, though it may not seem like it at first. But first I need ye to answer one more question. Can ye do that for me?”

He nods again, and I push him back away from me so I can see his face. I notice his eyes are redder and more swollen than before, and I can see he is pale as milk, but this discussion cannot be put off any longer. Still I take the time to arrange his pillows so that he can sit up against them, and then take his shaking hands in both of mine.

“All right, lamb, I need ye to tell me exactly what the oath was that ye made all those years ago. Try to remember the words ye used.”

He closes his eyes as if trying to recall, and doesn’t bother opening them when he finally answers.

“I swore that when your…end comes I would be with you to see that your death is properly marked and that your journey to the halls of your fathers goes smoothly and to perform all the duties required of a proper son and heir to a great dwarven lord and heart father.”

I feel tears prick my own eyes at his words, for I am deeply touched not only by this promise, but also by the fact that he is still willing to fulfill his oath even at a terrible cost to himself, possibly even at the cost of his life. Fortunately that will not be necessary.

“In that case, I believe our problems have been solved for us, lamb, and I am hard pressed to believe it is a mere coincidence. There is a way ye can take ship soon and also avoid reneging on your vow.”

He manages to open his poor swollen eyes and furrows his brow in confusion.

“But how?” he whispers, “I do not understand…I…”

I place a finger on his lips to silence him before I explain.

“Because recall that I have given my own secret vow,” I remind him, “Many years ago, I promised myself that if I were still alive and able bodied when the time came for ye to leave Middle Earth, I would sail with ye.”

I hold my breath awaiting his reaction, but to my relief he actually smiles and looks pleased and ready to slip into slumber. But only for the few seconds it takes what I have just said to really sink in. Suddenly his eyes fly open and he attempts to sit upright.

“Gimli!”

He tries to say more, but I hurry to interrupt his protests.

“It was my choice, elfling, and I canna break my vow any more than ye can break yours. Now neither of us will have to. It is a perfect solution! Ye can take care of my final rites in the far West.”

“But…”

“There are no buts about it!” I say firmly, “We will discuss questions and plans and everything else later! For now ye will rest quietly while I send for Master Healer Handir. Ye will explain to him exactly what ye have been doing to yourself, so he can tell me what must be done to get ye feeling better for once ye are sufficiently recovered we have much to discuss!”


	6. Legolas' pov

XXXXX

Gimli may say there are to be no buts, but my mind is filled with them, and yet my eyes are already beginning to close and long before Handir arrives I have drifted off into an uneasy sleep. 

I am awakened by the unceremonious removal of the bedcovers. I ease my eyes open to find my master healer looking down at me with an expression on his face that makes me hurriedly close my eyes again.

Of course this does not stop Handir from undertaking a very thorough examination, shaking his head and tutting at each new piece of evidence he finds to support his diagnosis of an overdose of stimulants. 

A positive torrent of questions burst about my ears. How long have I been taking the herbs, how much have I taken, and on and on. I do not attempt to defend myself against the lecture on the dangers I have exposed myself to through my actions. I already know how stupid I have been. 

Handir and Gimli talk above my head, discussing the likely consequences of the drugs I have taken.

“Of course increasing the dose as he did has only served to make matters worse, Lord Gimli. We are going to have to flush the drugs from his system. His own body has already begun to reject them, I see, but the sooner his hröa is cleansed the better it will be for all concerned. I have some medicaments that will encourage Lord Legolas’ body to expel the toxins more rapidly …”

That sounds ominous and I decide it would be wise to feign sleep for as long as possible to avoid the proposed cure.

As I lie there with Gimli and Handir talking above my head I come to the belated conclusion that I am going to have to sail. I can finally admit it after years of self-delusion and denial and I feel a great sense of relief in just admitting it even to myself, even while I feel so ill or perhaps because of that. Have I spent all these long years struggling for no good reason? But of course I know the answer to that. Even had I accepted the fact that I needed to sail, I could not have done so while Estel lived. I wonder if Gimli was right when he said that the revelations of our oaths was somehow orchestrated by a greater power. If it was I wish they had deigned to do it a great deal earlier think of the trouble it would have saved me. Of course, I understand that Gimli did not wish to make a promise he might not live to keep. 

Thinking of my guardian leads me onto thinking about the possible consequences of my latest disastrous attempt to avoid having to sail. Gimli is angry and rightly so. I have done a foolish and dangerous thing… well if I am to be entirely truthful, another in a long line of foolish and dangerous things. I meant well, but of course that is no excuse and I deserve whatever comes to me. I do not dread Gimli’s anger. In fact the fear and anguish I saw in his eyes as I succumbed to the effects of the herbs I have been taking makes me wish he would punish me, but I suspect that Gimli will believe the illness I am already experiencing will be punishment enough, and no doubt he believes me to frail to withstand physical discipline. 

My feigned sleep is suddenly interrupted as my traitorous body decides not to wait for help and begins to expel its contents on its own. I turn to one side and begin to retch and heave the contents of my stomach. By the time I have finished vomiting into the bowl that someone is holding I am so weak that all I can manage is to fall back into the pillows, curl up into a ball and try not to weep at the state my choices have reduced me to. Again. I am exhausted, my body aches, my eyes are puffy and stinging. Still I fall into an uneasy sleep, which is once again full of nightmarish visions of faceless monsters, draped in seaweed. Sounding conch horns, surround me, intent on dragging me down into the ocean’s depth. I wake with a cry to find Gimli holding me close offering comfort and assuring me all is well. 

“It was but a dream, Lamb. Once we get ye free of these pernicious drugs they will fade, I swear. Now we need ye to swallow this for us to help speed that process.”

Gimli’s voice is soft but determined. The last thing I want presently is to put anything inside my stomach that might decide later that it prefers to be out again … 

“Please do not make me …” I beg, but I cannot resist the firm resolve of my dwarf and so reluctantly I allow liquid to be poured into my mouth and on the order to swallow I can do no more than obey.

“There now Lamb, that should help” Gimli tells me, I would like to argue but I am too concerned with avoiding immediate regurgitation to answer. I hug my stomach and wait for the inevitable but then miraculously I find that whatever it was I was forced to swallow seems to be calming my upset stomach.

“Much better this time. He has managed to keep most of the medicament down.” Handir pronounces, as if I have done some incredibly difficult feat. “Hopefully Lord Legolas will begin to improve over the next day or so” I take heart at that only to have my optimism dashed as the healer adds, “of course we cannot rule out a few further similar setbacks. Meddling with herbal stimulants is a very dangerous occupation.” 

I am not looking at him but I would wager my twin knives he is looking down his long nose at me as he says it I am sure of it when he continues portentously. “Especially for those who are not properly trained.”

I would like to tell him that I have already worked that out for myself but I do not because it would only open me up to further lectures, and presently I have my lips clamped together to avoid any return of the medicine I so reluctantly swallowed. Instead I relish the pleasure of having my face and lips wiped with a clean damp cloth and then find myself tucked back beneath the covers by my dwarf.

“Sleep Lambkin. I will be here when you wake. All will be well.”

 

But sleep is slow to come despite my exhaustion. Questions continue to plague me. How will our departure be managed and will I have sufficient reserves to last as long as we will need? For even though we have both agreed that it is time for us to sail, we cannot leave immediately.

It could be months before the time comes. We will need to build a suitable craft, and there is much to be done here in my demesne to prepare it for my departure. I cannot just abandon my folk who have followed me south and have worked so hard to bring beauty and health back to the Land of the Moon. What will happen here when I am gone? Will my elves stay on or return to Eryn Lasgalen and if they stay who will be their nominal lord? 

The obvious choice is Galathil, but I suspect he will go home to the forest he loves and to his king. He only came here at my Ada’s command. Thinking of my Adar brings another fear. How will I break the news to him that I am leaving Middle Earth and if I go will I ever see my father again?

And then there are all the farewells to be made, visits to the Shire, Erebor, Aglarond, and my own home. How will I cope in my weakened state? But I will have to. I refuse to leave without saying our goodbyes to those who we love and who have loved us, and I long to see the lands of Arda one last time.

My thoughts finally turn to Gimli. How selfish I am being. What of my dwarf? He is giving up everything he knows and loves to journey into the unknown, not even with the certainty that I have that he will be welcomed at the end of our travels. Yet I cannot go without him … and he has said he will not stay without me.

“Let go of all the questions Lamb.”  
Gimli’s hand brushes my damp hair back from my forehead and he kisses my brow.   
“Sleep! That is the best cure for what ails ye. We have time in plenty to talk in the days ahead. Sleep.”

My fingers search for one of Gimli’s great strong hands. With that as an anchor I no longer fear to drift. I know I am safe.

The dreams of the sea return of course, but this time between me and the siren call stands a stalwart figure in full armor hefting a war axe. A dwarven battle cry rings through the air as he sends the crashing waves back from the shore. 

None can stand against such might, not even the sea-longing that has plagued me for the last hundred years or more, now that Gimli has indicated that he will travel with me even the oceans seem to realize that their power is diminished. They can wound me but they cannot slay me, not any more. Already it is as if my hröa and my fëa feel strengthened, bolstered by the vigor of my staunchest ally my dwarf why have I not seen before that his strength is mine to call upon. His determination and power are there when I have need of them. All I had to do was acknowledge that need.

Now finally I can do that …


	7. Chapter 7

I take my lad’s hand in mine, keeping my voice low and reassuring as I brush the hair back from his face. I know by the furrowed brow that he is still full of questions and worries over my revelation that I intend to sail with him. I realize he has not yet agreed to this and I have no idea what I will have to do to convince him that it must happen, but convince him I will even if I have to use brute force to do so. I thought that I saw relief in his expression when I mentioned it, but it might have been just a gut reaction. I realize there may be days of arguing ahead, though I plan to head off as much of that as I can when he wakes up again. No doubt he is concerned for me as well as for himself and the fact that we will have to say goodbye to friends and family very soon. It is understandable, but he is at the very end of his strength right now and too weak to even withstand a conversation about the future. For now we both need to focus on getting him into good enough shape to withstand all that must be done, for we will be able to do nothing at all until he is considerably stronger than he is right now. Fretting over the future will only hinder his progress and so I remind him. 

“Let go of all the questions Lamb. Sleep. That is the best cure for what ails ye. We have time in plenty to talk in the days ahead, sleep.”

It is good advice, and he seems to relax and follow it as he finally settles into a more restful sleep. I only wish I could do the same, but the fact is there are questions that must be answered and planned for and since Legolas has proven that he is currently incapable of making sensible choices for himself, it is up to me to step up and make them for him. As I think this I realize I am no longer angry at this latest debacle. Giving up is not in my Legolas’ nature and he would rather die than dishonor me by breaking the oath he made on the altar of Zârgharâf. Sheer desperation made him act as he did and he truly believed there was no other recourse at the time. I can hardly blame him for that, can I? It would be unfair to hold him to account for decisions he made while under duress. If we are being entirely truthful he has not been thinking straight in quite some time, another reason why I must accept the fact that all plans and decisions will need to fall to me from now until we arrive in the far west and perhaps beyond that for a time as well. 

It is difficult to think of all the partings that must take place, but I can hardly leave Arda without seeing my beloved caves one more time and to say goodbye to dear friends and family there. The most difficult parting will be with King Thranduil I suppose, for no one knows when he will choose to sail if he ever will at all. It is unfair that Legolas must be parted from his father, for in spite of all his fancy titles and his renown in battle he is in truth only an elfling who needs the loving support of a parent, but there is no alternative anymore. 

I know the lad will not leave these shores without making a final trip home, but I worry that he will be unable to withstand the rigors of the journey and the emotional distress of parting. One thing is for certain; his poor father must never see the lad in the sorry state he is in now, not if I can help it. It would break his heart to know of it and would haunt him after we have gone. So I must increase my efforts to monitor every aspect of my elfling’s life to ensure that he is finished making foolish, unsafe choices, at least this side of the sea. Youthful errors are not surprising for someone of his stage of life, but he might not survive another one, so diligence is required on my part to make sure he remains as safe and as well as possible.  
Not that I have not been diligent before now. I moved here to Ithilien ten years ago just for that purpose, but I have done my best to let him keep as much independence as possible even while I kept a close eye on him. Sadly things have changed now and a “close eye” is no longer enough, but constant supervision is what is needed as much as I hate to say it. I can only hope he will be able to admit to the need himself and not fight me on it too much. Again I hope to preempt that by having a serious discussion on the matter as soon as possible. 

The rest of the evening is spent watching him sleep, wiping his hands and face, helping him to the bathing chamber, or holding a bowl for him to heave into as his body continues to rid itself of the herbal stimulants with the help of Master Handir’s treatment. Handir comes in a time or two to see how we are getting on. Finally he decides that there is no longer any need to continue to force the poor child’s body to purge itself of toxins. Instead of the thick, black liquid from earlier he offers a pungent cup of warm tea.

“This one will settle your stomach and help you to rest easier, Lord Legolas,” he promises. “Whatever toxins haven’t been expelled already will need to be washed out with lots of fluids.” He turns his eyes toward me. “If he is able to keep this down, you should begin encouraging him to sip plain water, for he has to be severely dehydrated by now. Tomorrow if all goes well we can try some plain broth and go from there. We will hope for the best, but as I said before, messing about with herbal stimulants is foolish in the extreme…”

He would continue to nag, but I interrupt him before he can say more. 

“I think its safe to say he has figured that out by now, Master Handir, so there is no need to mention it again. I will personally see to it that nothing like this happens again, so ye may leave off with the scolding and let me handle everything.”

Handir only nods curtly and leaves me alone with my elfling who looks wearily up at me. He is worn out from all he has been through, but I can see he is also worried over something. I decide he must be concerned over my use of the phrase ‘handle everything’ for he immediately apologizes again and then asks about the state of my emotions.

“I am so sorry.”

“I know ye are laddie. Ye have said so already and there is no need to keep saying it.”

“It was very stupid of me.” He admits.

“Aye, perhaps, but understandable I think. Ye mustn’t worry over it now, but should focus only on getting well, so just close your eyes now lambkin.” I say, but he is not ready to let it go yet it seems.

“You are not angry?” 

Even on his best day my lad can make his eyes as big as saucers when he hopes to get by with some infraction or another. Now as thin as he is, his face seems to be all eyes. I cannot help smiling and pulling him into my arms. I hurry to ease his mind.

“Nay, child, I am not angry, not even a little bit.”

He smiles in relief and closes his eyes, but opens them again when I continue to speak.

“But I do have something I wish to say. Are ye listening?”

He nods feebly. 

“Very good, for I dinna wish to have to argue with ye or repeat myself over and over on the subject. I have made up my mind, so there is no need for discussion on the matter. I only wish to say this once and I expect ye to cooperate and obey, young elf. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes Gimli, but you haven’t said what you wish me to do.”

“Well, I am getting to that part, so hush and let me get on with it! First of all I want to say that I firmly believe ye will be completely recovered in time, but it is easy to see that it will not be here in Middle Earth. Ye have put up an amazing fight, but it is time ye admitted ye’re going to have to sail, and since I wish to be there to see ye well again, ye are just going to have to put up with me coming along with ye. That is not negotiable so there is no need to attempt to debate with me on the topic. It is my choice and my right to do so. I couldna’ stand to see ye sail away never knowing what became of ye. It is true that it will take some time to prepare to depart, but I expect to be able to do so within the year. What that means for you is that ye must listen to me carefully and do exactly as I say without question. Ye are no longer responsible for anything else. I will handle everything that needs handling. This is not meant to punish or shame ye, but simply to protect ye until we have made the journey West and ye have proven that ye are able to make sensible choices for yourself again. We can discuss new terms at that time. Is this all clear?”

Even though I have spoken quite firmly, and in spite of the fact that he is weak as a kitten I fully expect him to argue with me for he has never once admitted to the harsh reality that he will not be able to remain forever on Arda. Instead he surprises me by half smiling and relaxing against my shoulder.

“Have you thought of a name?” he asks, making me momentarily fear for his mental stability for it is an odd question considering the topic at hand. I worry that the physical strain that he has put himself through has affected his thinking ability.

“A name for what, lambkin?” I gently inquire.

“We will need a ship won’t we? And a ship needs a name doesn’t it?”

I am suddenly flooded with relief. It is the first time in all these years he has admitted that he intends to sail. It may not be much, but it is enough for now. I chuckle and kiss the top of his head before lowering him back onto the pillow.

“Nay lamb, I have not! But I think I will leave that to you to decide. Ye can think it over while ye are resting here and let me know later.”

“I don’t need to think it over, Elvellon, I have the perfect name already.”

“Do ye now?”

He nods, “Indeed I do, but I won’t tell you now. It will be a surprise when the time comes.”

“I will look forward to it,” I tell him. “It will be the start of another grand adventure together.”

As he drifts off, smiling at that thought, I offer a prayer to the Valar that they make my words become a reality.


End file.
